Just perfect
by HughBonnevillefan
Summary: Robert waits for the arrival of his first child.


Robert paced back and forth across the library, his hands clasped behind his back and his brow furrowed. His mother, father and sister all sat on their chairs watching him until finally Rosamund could stand it no longer.

"Robert! For crying out loud. If you won't sit down will you at least have a drink, something to calm your nerves?"

Rosamund rose from the settee and poured her brother a very large whiskey.

"Here!" She thrust it towards him. "Drink this, it will help"

Robert took the drink and gave his sister a sharp nod before gulping back half the drink.

"Why is it taking so long? What if something's gone wrong? They've been up there for hours!"

Violet sighed at her son's obvious worry.

"Robert! Childbirth is not an exact science. Now sit down before you wear a hole in the carpet!"

She shook her head at him before returning her attentions to her needlework. His father, seeing his son's angst, rose from his chair by the fire and walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and gripping it in a fatherly gesture.

"Robert, please try to stay calm. You'll be no use to Cora or your child if you've worked yourself up into a frenzy. Finish your drink and sit down. I'm sure it won't be too much longer."

Robert gave his father a warm smile and did as he was told. He finished his drink and sat next to his sister.

"I'm sorry, papa, it's just..." He was cut of mid-sentence by his mother who was growing ever frustrated with him.

"Robert! We know. Your father has been in the same situation when you and Rosamund were born. I must say he handled himself a lot better than you are!"

At this Patrick patted his wife's hand and tried to cajole her.

"Let him be, Violet. He's understandably worried."

Rosamund, seeing her older brother's worry, reached out her hand and rubbed his upper arm.

"I'm sure all is well, brother dear. Before too long you'll be holding your child in your arms."

Rosamund was about to continue when the library door flung open and a rather flustered butler stood there.

"Lord Downton, Lady Downton is asking for you."

At this Robert flew from the settee and ran past the butler towards the stairs. He took them two at a time until he reached the top whereupon he ran to his wife's room. Knocking frantically, he waited until the door was opened by a nurse. She smiled at him and put a finger to her lips to gesture for him to be quiet then ushered him into the room. The sight that met him made his heart beat so hard he thought it might burst through his chest. He stood stock still, starring at his wife who was holding a little sleeping bundle in her arms. Cora looked up at him and smiled, somewhat wearily.

"Come and meet your daughter, Robert."

She patted the edge of the bed, wanting him to sit. Robert stumbled a little across the room as he couldn't take his eyes off his wife and daughter. He finally sat and stared down at the sleeping child, tears of utter joy welling in his eyes.

"She's so tiny, Cora." He lifted a finger, and with a little trepidation brushed it gently over her cheek. "She's beautiful."

He lifted his eyes to his wife, the tears finally falling. "Just like you."

Cora, although exhausted, lifted her hand and wiped the tears from his cheek.

"She looks like her papa. She is a lucky little lady."

Cora lifted their daughter and offered her to him."Hold your daughter, Robert."

Robert took the baby and with slightly shaky hands, held her close to his chest. Never taking his eyes from her face.

"Will we call her Mary? As planned?"

On not hearing a reply, he lifted his head to look at his wife. He smiled when he saw she had fallen asleep. Robert leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek before whispering"Thank you, Cora. I love you" to her.

He stood, taking care not to jostle the baby and looked down at her.

"Lady Mary Josephine Crawley. Yes, I think that sounds just perfect."

Robert bent his head and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before whispering "Yes, perfect, just like you."


End file.
